Friday, June 24, 2011

Warning...18 or older only!

Excerpt It's All in the Jeans

It was five o’clock in the morning when the sound of something banging against the house woke Logan. Not that he’d been sleeping all that soundly, listening to the wrath of Mother Nature on and off during most of the night. They were lucky. The hurricane had indeed turned, leaving them with tropical force winds and rain in its wake. The Carolinas was going to get the brunt of the storm, which had thankfully shrank down to a category one.

He pulled back the covers and jumped from the bed when he heard something crashing around in the backyard. The wind was strong enough to shake the house, and he could only pray the hurricane shutters held up. He was worried about the trees around the place, too. If one of them came down, it would pierce the aluminum roof like a toothpick.

He pulled the curtain back to peer out his bedroom window before remembering the shutters, and then reached for his jeans. He slipped them on, not bothering to turn on the light. He knew the power was still on though, thanks to the digital clock on the dresser. As he made his way through the darkened house, he passed his snoring grandfather where he’d fallen asleep on the sofa. Shaking his head with disbelief, Logan grinned when he noticed the weather channel was still on.

Remembering there was a flashlight in the junk drawer next to the stove, Logan retrieved it. He turned it on before leaving the kitchen to make sure it worked, then opened the door just enough to squeeze through. As soon as he stepped out onto the porch he was blasted with a sheet of wind and rain. Other noises began to penetrate Logan’s consciousness. The dim lights at the end of everyone’s driveways allowed him enough light to see the dark shadows of flying debris.

Someone’s trashcan was rolling down the street. A couple planters blew by, minus the plants. God knows where those were. Pieces of rain gutters were scattered here and there as the fragile aluminum was ripped off the houses. Someone’s wind turbine, possibly their own, was on the front lawn.

As far as Logan could tell it wasn’t anything major. No one’s porches or carports were flying around. The street was flooded though. He couldn’t see if there were any trees down but daylight would provide more answers. When he opened the screen door the wind almost tore it from his grasp. He made sure it was secure, and then dashed down the steps.

As he headed for the backyard, a light coming from Margaret’s house drew his immediate attention. He could clearly make out that she was standing in front of what he knew was the kitchen window. However, he couldn’t tell if she was doing something at the sink, or looking outside. Then a loud bang snagged Logan’s attention and his gaze shot to the large piece of metal the wind was holding hostage against the tool shed. He wondered whose house it had broken loose from. The shed door had somehow blown open too and was banging noisily against the side.

As he turned to head there a beam of light hit the large oak tree to the right of him, and he came to a halt. Then he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. At first Logan thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. He couldn’t possibly be seeing Libby, walking around in the rain with a flashlight in her hands. She was obviously searching for something. Is she crazy? What does she think she is doing? A good gust of wind would pick her up without much trouble. As it was she was having trouble staying on her feet.

She halted when her light went out. She hadn’t noticed him yet, and began slapping the flashlight against her palm to get the light to come back on. He shook his head with disbelief and made his way to her.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” he growled loud enough for her to hear him over the howling wind. He pointed his flashlight at her face. “Trying to get killed?”

She glanced up, blinking against the wind and rain, brushing wet strands of hair out of her face. She was as soaked as he was, and wearing just as little. In fact, closer inspection revealed it was a nightgown of some kind. The cloth made transparent by the rain.

She faced his anger with an unconcerned laugh. “Not really!” she yelled above the storm, blinking at the light he was shining in her eyes. “Looking for Rufus! Gram’s about to give herself a heart attack because she can’t find him! She’s frantic!”

“You’re risking your neck for a cat?” Now he knew she was crazy. “Come on!” Logan took her by the arm with every intention of dragging her back inside.

Libby pulled back. “I have to find him!” She turned toward the shed.

Groaning with frustration, Logan wrapped his arm around her waist and picked her up off the ground. He whipped her back in the direction of the house. “I’ll look for Rufus; you get your little butt back inside!”

“Logan,” Libby struggled against his arm but he had no trouble keeping hold of her. “He’ll never come to you! Let me at least check out the shed and then I’ll go back inside, I promise!”

He hesitated reluctantly, realizing she was making sense. What would it hurt to let her check out the shed? It wouldn’t take that long, and he’d be with her if anything happened. He lowered her until her feet were on the ground again. “Okay, but make it quick.”

He was right behind Libby when they entered the dark shed, drawing the door closed behind them to keep the inside from getting any wetter than it already was. A large crack remained because the door was old and bent. He felt for the light switch and flipped it on. The room was instantly bathed with the dim glow of a twenty-watt bulb. Not much light, just enough to take in the lawn mower, various tools and gardening supplies kept on hand. And the wet temptress poised directly beneath the light.

Logan’s gaze dropped, moving over Libby. She might as well be naked. Whatever she had on was plastered to her like a thin layer of tissue. It stopped at the top of her thighs, the transparency revealing she wasn’t wearing any panties. Logan tried to put the brakes on where his mind was heading as his eyes rested on the fascinating curve of her buttocks. He recalled what she looked like naked, but for some unexplained reason this was far more sensual and tempting.Heightening his senses with a teasing display of what his hands had only discovered the day before. His palms tingled, he tried to swallow.

Then she whipped around to face him, an innocent smile on her face as she brushed the wet hair away. He watched her movements, letting his gaze slowly take in the clear outline of her breasts with their darker nipples, proudly pointing in his direction. When his eyes landed on the darker patch between her thighs lust swept through his body in crippling waves.

Someone caught their breath, and their eyes met. If Logan didn’t know better he’d swear the look on Libby’s face revealed she was feeling uncharacteristically shy and nervous. So unlike the self-assured, sassy little witch they both knew she was. All at once she glanced away, and he couldn’t help wondering what she was up to. Yesterday she’d stood before him proud and naked, practically demanding he make love to her. Now she resembled more a delicate damsel in distress facing her conqueror.

“When Rufus is frightened he’ll hide almost anywhere,” she said, looking everywhere but at Logan. Is her voice trembling? “He likes people to believe he’s big and bad but inside he’s really just a big baby.” She moved to an old desk that Vincent used for a worktable. “Rufus?” her soft voice coaxed.

She bent over the desk to peer behind it, and seeing how her wet nightgown outlined her shapely bottom, Logan lost it, achieving a hard-on in record time. He sucked in his breath, his body twitching with awareness recalling how good it felt sinking inside her welcoming body. Logan moved behind Libby, pinning her against the desk, not quite sure what his intentions were. Only knowing he needed to feel her against him like he needed air to breathe.

Catching her unaware, he felt her slight jump. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he asked gruffly against her ear. Logan brought his arms around her and covered her breasts with his hands. He thrust his hips, letting her feel the power of his erection against her bottom.

“Oh!” she cried again, this time with soft acceptance.

Logan closed his eyes and groaned low. If he had any doubts Libby was receptive to his boldness the thought went right out the window the moment she pressed her bottom against his cock.

“There’s a damn storm out there, Libby, and all I can think about is a repeat of what we did in the pool house.”

Her soft laugh filled the small room, heard above the pounding rain on the tin roof. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” she admitted. “I’m embarrassed at how, ah, slutty I acted with you.”

“Do you know what I think?” he whispered, caressing her breasts and nipples and noticing how perfect they felt in his palms. Like they belonged there. “I think you’re a witch and you put a hex on me.” He sucked in his breath when she arched her back, forcing her bottom more fully against him. His knees actually buckled in weakness.

She laughed again, trembling wildly. “My great grandmother was said to be a witch,” she confessed.

Growling low, Logan leaned forward and put his mouth against her collarbone. His kisses traveled a slow path to the graceful arch of her neck, where she tilted her head so he could have better access. He closed his teeth over her in a gentle love bite, and then sucked the brief pain away. Libby shivered wildly, turning her face toward him with a sigh of longing on her lips.

Logan didn’t think twice about accepting her silent invitation. His mouth swooped down on hers, parting her sweet lips and thrusting his tongue inside to mate with hers. Mutual moans of pleasure echoed around them. It would be so easy to lose control with Libby. But did he want to use her in that way? The truth was Logan didn’t have the strength to pull away.

His arousal pounded full and heavy behind his zipper, demanding he do something about it. His heart was beating rapidly to keep up with the rush spiraling through his blood. And the hungry movements of Libby’s body as she writhed against him, her audible whimpers, seemed to indicate she was working toward that same goal.

Logan forced himself to break their heated kiss. “Libby…God, I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, out of breath.

“You would never hurt me, Logan,” she gasped right back. “I’ve never felt like this with anyone.” Not what he wanted to hear right then. “Besides, how can something that feels this good hurt me?”

He knew of several reasons why. His mind was clouded with desire, and his body ached with the need to make love to her. Yet it didn’t keep him from having a conscience. Libby knew the score; he’d made sure of that from the beginning. He should release her and step back; she deserved better than this.

“Logan?” Libby whispered. “Did you fall asleep on me?”

He burst out laughing, he couldn’t help it. “Hell no, honey.” He turned her around so that she was facing him, keeping her close. “Just let me hold you for a moment,” he breathed raggedly, encircling her in his arms. Libby placed her head against his chest.

Her arms glided around him, her hands brushing the moisture off his naked shoulders and down his back. Logan tried to calm his body down, ignore the soft woman in his arms who smelled of rain and something sweetly wild. But every breath she took made him aware of her in every way. And there was the obvious problem of his hard-on, which was nestled against her demanding attention and straining toward the pleasure it would find in her body.

“What are you afraid of, Logan?” she asked against his chest, her warm breath singeing his bare flesh. “I thought we had an understanding; sex for sex, nothing more, nothing less.”

In spite of what he was feeling, Logan stiffened at her question. What was he afraid of? Falling for a little witch with flaming hair and sparkling eyes? Afraid he wouldn’t be able to walk away? Whatever the answers were he wanted Libby more than he’d ever wanted another woman.

“Is it so bad wanting to make love to me?” Whether she was aware of her actions or not, she moved her lower body against his, keeping him hard and hungry.

Was that her tongue against his skin? He jerked back so he could meet her eyes. “I want you so much that I’m afraid I’ll hurt you,” Logan confessed fiercely. “You should know better than tobait an aroused man.”

“What if I said I want you too?” she asked huskily, her eyes half closed with desire. “Right here…right now.”

Logan half expected her to remove her clothes as she had in the pool house. Instead, she did something just as shocking. She gave him a shove, at the same time bringing her hands up to cup and caress her breasts through her wet nightgown. Her nipples were brown little crowns, clearly visible, taunting him to put his mouth on them. He swallowed with difficulty.

“Libby…” He struggled to ignore the lust boiling through his blood, knowing the thin thread holding his control in check was going to snap at any moment. “Don’t…”

“You did this, Logan,” she began, throwing her head back and arching her spine, purring with pleasure as her hands caressed her breasts. “You’ve turned me on so much that I’m throbbing, too, like you,” she whispered. “If you won’t put out the fire, I’ll have to find another way.”

Her hands moved to the hem of her short gown. He watched in speechless fascination as her fingers inched the material up her thighs until there was no doubt what her intentions were. Coupled with the forbidden visual her words conjured, it was the final straw for Logan. As her fingers reached the glistening curls between her thighs, he sucked in a sharp breath and reached for her.